The Lobster Quadrille
by NoEndInSight13
Summary: I realized there was no Mock Turtle or Gryphon in HnKnA, so I wrote them. They're pirates, sailing the Outer Ocean, who have little to no contact with the other Role Holders. Then one day they sail through a storm and into the country of Clover. Rated T for Wonderland violence.


The Lobster Quadrille

 _Summary: when telling a friend about HnKnA, she asked if there was a Mock Turtle or a Gryphon. There aren't, so I wrote them. Hope you enjoy this._

The pirate ship the Myriad sailed the seas of the ocean regions of wonderland, taking what it could and giving none back, for that was the pirate way. At the moment, however, the black flag that caused so much fear was not flying. It was spread out over the knees of a fourteen year old girl, who was altering the skull and crossed swords to something she felt more appropriate.

The girl had hair the color of milk chocolate, and eyes the color of gold. She wore a coat that was too big for her, and a brown hat with gold trim and a blue feather.

With a final flourish, Miranda Fendagrin tied off the ends of her threads. This was truly perfect. She hid the remains of the white sword-shaped felt that had previously adorned the flag, and strode out of her cabin. Acting as though nothing was amiss, she calmly ran the flag up. It fluttered anew, and the young Gryphon went about her business as usual for the next two time periods.

"Miranda, what is this?"

The girl in question winced. She was so sure no one would notice. And of all people it was _him._ Alistair Green, the Mock Turtle and captain of the Myriad, had seen what she had done.

He was an imposing man, with copper colored skin, several long green braids, and startlingly green eyes. Miranda did not like to get on his bad side.

"What's wrong captain?"

Without a word, the man pointed up. The flag.

"Ummmm…. It suits us better now, doesn't it? No one would think we're regular pirates now, right?" Miranda was getting desperate. She was in deep trouble. Then something happened that surprised everyone.

The Captain threw back his head and _laughed._

"Miranda, you never cease to amaze me. I believe it does suit us better." The captain offered a rare smile. Miranda lifted onto her tiptoes and came back down. This was a far better reaction than she was expecting. She had even kept the felt swords in case she was forced to sew them back on.

"Keep the flag. I like it."

"Thank you captain." Miranda bowed slightly.

From that day forth the dread ship the Myriad sailed not under crossed swords, but under a rapier crossed with a soup ladle.

Miranda was having the time of her life. Another ship had been seen raiding merchant vessels in the Outer Ocean. Even though they went under the title of 'Corsair' rather than 'Pirate' it had been clear what they were doing. The young Gryphon ran her rapier through one of the enemies, then drew one of her pistols and shot two more. She was not too busy to notice the way her many trinkets and ornaments sparkled in the sunlight, and carefully moved to a place with slightly more sunlight.

"Listen up!" she shouted "We are the Myriad, best pirates in the Outer Ocean, and we don't want company! Die!"

Even though she and twenty-five of the faceless crew were fighting with bravery and skill, there were too many enemies. She was slowly being backed up against the edge of the deck, and several of the crew had been killed. A sword point slashed painfully against her cheek. This could be a problem.

 _BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM._

The captain of the rival ship and a few of the crew all fell to the deck dead. Miranda turned around to see the grim face of Alistair, carrying at his side an impressive rifle. A good deal of the weapon was made of silver, and it was also plated with mother-of-pearl near the handle, and a long chain fastened it to his belt. Alistair was very proud of his rifle, polishing it every night. He only used it when absolutely necessary, and Miranda was not even allowed to touch it.

Without a word, and with a slight disapproving glance at the first mate, the captain finished off the rival pirate ship.

"Come see me when this is over. We need to work on that swordsmanship of yours." Alistair took advantage of the full foot of height he had on her to look down his nose at Miranda. "You can do better. Do not let your vanity get in the way of your job. It will only get you killed."

"Yes Captain." Miranda wished the deck would swallow her up so she could get out of his sight line. "I-I'll help move the supplies" She rushed off.

The light rippled around the ship and changed from day to night. The sea stood calm and restful. Lamps with little holes in the shapes of stars were lit on deck, and the faceless crew began to gather. One woman took out a mandolin, another a fiddle, and they got ready to play. Every other night period, the crew would come up on deck and dance complex line dances, sometimes just one or two, sometimes until the night ended or the musicians could play no longer.

The faceless crew of the Myriad numbered fifty at the best of times, but eight had been slain during the earlier battle, and twenty had been put on that ship to take it, sell it, and find replacements for their fallen comrades.

Minus the two musicians and plus the Alistair and Miranda, there were ten couples dancing on the deck that night, something the captain saw as a perfect amount. The Mock Turtle loved dancing, and was something of an expert. On the rare occasions when he felt too tired to dance, he would play the flute. Anyone who heard him said that it was the most beautiful thing they had ever heard, completely contradicting the aura he portrayed all other times.

As per the rules, the first dance was the Lobster Quadrille. That dance must be the first one danced whenever a dance is held on the deck of the Myriad. The captain and the first mate made up the first couple, and the rest of the crew lined up beneath them.

The unique and slightly creepy music of the Lobster Quadrille began, couples bowed and curtsied, and the dance began. The music was fast, and seemed to take on a life of its own. Alistair danced perfectly, having done so every other night period for the last nine years. Miranda, who had only danced every other night period for the last two years, had more trouble, but still managed to keep in time.

Alistair listened to the perfect thumping of twenty pairs of boots onto the deck. _His_ deck. Whenever there was dancing, he felt that everything could truly be all right. It helped him find joy in this boring and monochrome life. This was light. This was life, or what counted for it in this world. While dancing, he was happy.

"Full house! I win!"

Miranda collected the pot and scooped it into a canvas bag she had had waiting for that very purpose. Above the first mate and the four unfortunate members of the crew, evening changed to daytime.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to go! The captain wants me to eat with him today, see?" This was a regular occurrence. Aside from being her boss and tutoring her, she and Alistair were very good friends. Sometimes, though, she caught him looking at her with a deep sadness in his eyes. Not that there was anything odd about-

The young Gryphon was interrupted from her reverie by a dead seagull falling out of the sky and onto the deck at her feet. She picked it up. It had no head, but apart from that looked healthy. She looked up. There was nothing in the sky that could have caused this.

Surely this was an ill omen, a sign of disaster to come!

After considering for a minute, Miranda decided that it was an omen of seagull meat for dinner. She ordered someone to clean up the bloodstains on the deck, then walked down to the galley. She delivered the bird to the cook and collected her and Alistair's meals with no further incident.

"Hello, Captain!"

"Hello, Miranda. Lunchtime already?"

"Yep!" She placed the two trays on a small table in the captain's study. She whipped off the covers to reveal clam chowder, fresh bread, and dried apples.

"Oh, tasty. Thanks for the food!" Miranda sat down and began to eat with gusto. Alistair sighed and began to eat at a more sedate pace. That girl. Would she ever _not_ be hungry?

"So, we only have normal stuff for lunch, but dinner will be really good! Seagull meat!" Miranda seemed especially cheerful that day, in contrast to Alistair, who was feeling more depressed than ever.

"Oh? Gotten better at shooting then, have you?"

"Not really. It fell to the deck without a head."

The captain stared at the young first mate for a moment.

"You really aren't superstitious at all. How odd for someone who lives on the sea."

"There's superstition and then there's meat. Meat comes first."

For a while longer they ate in silence. Alistair stared across the table at Miranda. Really, every day she looked more and more like-

"What's wrong?"

"Ah… nothing. It's just…you look like Jackson."

"Oh."

Miranda stared down at the last of her chowder. She knew who he was talking about. Jackson Fendagrin was the previous Gryphon. At the age of thirteen, he had become the first mate of the Myriad. Less than a year afterward, the previous Mock Turtle had died. Instinct had brought him to a small port city, where he had found a twelve-year-old Alistair wandering the streets, unaware of why people were keeping away from him. The two had become fast friends, and after a few years sworn themselves as brothers. Then, at the age of twenty, Jackson had been washed overboard in a storm.

After a while, Alistair found his instinct pulling him to the largest port city in the Outer Ocean. He had found Miranda, who had been only five when her brother got a face, a tail, and a name, and had to go away.

Normally it was unheard of for a family to have a role holder taken from it more than once, especially for the same role. But the Gryphon was a special case. In all of wonderland, there was only one Gryphon, and that was the first mate of the Myriad. Both Gryphons had grown tails along with faces when they got their roles. The Gryphon role favored those with lion or eagle blood in them, recessive of course. Miranda's family had had both. Not anymore, of course. Her parents and siblings, not wanting to lose another family member, had hidden Miranda and tried to fight Alistair off. The Mock Turtle had promptly slaughtered them, and had taken the young Gryphon back to the Myriad while drenched in the blood of her family.

Normally you would hate someone who had done such a thing. But Miranda had felt the tugging of her role, telling her to forgive him. Then Alistair told her stories of her brother who had sailed the seas before her, even given her brother's coat to her, and taught her how to navigate, and use a sword, and shoot, and gamble. The gambling she had excelled at, getting to the point where she could sit down at a table and win effortlessly, without even having to cheat. She had grown, she had prospered, and she had become happy. The Myriad had become her home, and Alistair and the crew her family, but deep down she knew she could never replace her brother.

"I-I suppose I might. Anyway, Captain, I've been thinking-"

"A dangerous trait, I'm sure." Alistair interrupted, causing Miranda to shoot him a glare.

"I have been thinking" repeated the Gryphon, acting more annoyed than she truly was, "That if you and Jackson swore yourself as brothers, does that make me your sister? He was my brother too after all."

Alistair was taken aback. "I don't believe that's haw those oaths work." He said, "But if you wish us siblings, siblings we shall be."

"I do wish. Thank you." _Perhaps_ , thought Miranda, _I am closer to replacing Jackson than I think._

"Did you feel that?" Miranda asked Alistair. It was almost like a slight tremor, similar to what they had felt a year ago, which was the coming of an outsider. That had had nothing to do with them, of course. Any outsider to come to the outer ocean fell right onto the deck of the Myriad, and it was difficult to get to any other territory without breaking the rules. Miranda had never left the outer ocean, but several years ago Alistair had visited the country of Hearts when a move gave it a port and a coast.

"That was a move." Said the captain. Something was wrong. You weren't supposed to feel a move unless you were involved. When he had gone to the country of Hearts he had never felt something like this, just sailed up to the port and docked.

"Captain! Captain! We've got a big storm coming in dead ahead!" a frantic voice came down the tube that led from the watch post to the captain's study. Alistair pulled on his coat and ran to the deck, Miranda hot on his heels. They could figure out the strange feeling later.

A huge pile of clouds seemed to boil in front of them. There was no way they could get out of the way in time. They had no choice but to ride it out.

"All hands on deck!" shouted the captain. "Get those sails down! You three! Help the helmsman! Batten the hatches!" He spotted the unfortunate faceless that had been on watch. "How did this get so close without you noticing? This thing is huge!"

"Sir, I don't know! I blinked, and when I opened my eyes, there it was!" the poor woman was nearly in tears.

"No matter now, help batten the hatches, then get below. Go!" he shouted the last part, more at the entire crew than at her in general. Alistair stared at the storm for a second, then rushed off to give orders to the helmsman.

"Captain, all the hatches are secure and the largest sails are down!" Miranda reported. Rain had already began to fall, and she was clutching her hat against her chest to keep it from being blown away.

"Good. Now get below."

"What? But I-!"

"No arguments, just go!" Alistair practically threw the first mate down the stairs and slammed the door behind her. All but the most capable and necessary crew members had already been sent below as well. He lashed himself to the railing and continued giving orders. These storms were bad, but they never lasted long. The captain thought with dismay about the dead seagull Miranda had found. It was an ill omen after all.

Through the driving storm, he saw a lighter patch. This wasn't a hurricane, so that meant safety was on the other side. "Steer for the light!" called Alistair, praying that this wasn't actually a hurricane.

In an instant, the ship burst through into the light, rain stopping all at once.

"Land ho, Sir!" called the watch.

At the moment Alistair couldn't see, his sodden green hair in the way, so he called "Which way?"

"Um… Down, Sir!" said the very confused watch.

Finally scooping his hair out of the way, Alistair realized that this was true. The Myriad was peacefully sailing about fifty feet above a dense forest.

"Well, there's something you don't see every day."


End file.
